


If You've A Mind

by Glittering_Darmallon



Series: The Ballerina and The Bull [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Best Friends, Drinking, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Soulmates, Post: The Last Resort of Good Men, reference to past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 14:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glittering_Darmallon/pseuds/Glittering_Darmallon
Summary: Set right after the events of The Last Resort of Good Men. Rather than let Dorian drink alone, Inquisitor Adaar invites her friend to her quarters for good drink and good company. Platonic cuddling ensues.





	If You've A Mind

**Author's Note:**

> As the tags imply, this is not a ship fic. These two have a friendship akin to platonic soulmates. Please don't see the tags and jump right to, "Oh no you made Dorian straight."

“Now, time to drink myself into a stupor. It’s been that sort of day. Join me sometime if you’ve a mind,” Dorian said with a huff and strutted past Anaani.

Rather than let him beat a hasty retreat, she turned and caught his wrist. “Oh no you don’t. Come on. I have a much better idea than drinking alone in the tavern. But first, a stop in the basement for a bottle.”

Once down in the dim light of Skyhold’s basement, Anaani watched Dorian peruse the collection of assorted bottles she’d accumulated so. Like the books in the library, he seemed to have no qualms about telling her his opinion about each one.

He picked one up, “Oh Maker, that just screams, ‘Drink me!’. Honestly, who names their creation ‘Dragon’s Piss’ and hopes people will still drink it?" He set it back on the shelf. “Come to think of it, The Iron Bull would definitely drink this. The man seems to have an unhealthy love of dragons.”

She cracked a smile. “Well, I wouldn’t call it  _un_ healthy. More like a strong affinity for them. It’s endearing.”

“I know that look. Someone is sweet on the man. Come. Do tell. Leave no salacious detail out.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “With an attitude like that, you’ll never find out. Find one that catches your eye?”

Without paying close attention, he snatched one off the middle shelf. “Now what? Am I to drink this alone in my quarters?”

“No,” she said, giving him a gentle, guiding push towards and ultimately up the stairs. “Not exactly.”

 

***

 

“Ooh the evil Tevinter alone with the Inquisitor in her quarters! Think of the scandal, my dear Lady.”

Anaani plopped herself down on one end of the sofa, patting the spot next to her. Dorian, wasting no time, obliged her, removing boots before making himself comfortable.

“I can get some glasses?”

“No need,” he said as he tugged the cork from the bottle with his teeth.

“Charming.” She tucked her bare feet under her legs and turned to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“No. Not really.”

“Okay. Want to read trashy romance novels out loud and laugh at how bad they are?”

He feigned surprise. “My Lady! I am shocked. Shocked and appalled to find you read such horrible attempts at literature.”

“Why? I was married before. The naughty bits would hardly shock me.”

“I didn’t mean that part. I meant why would you waste your time reading drivel that was so poorly written?” He stretched out, hesitating whether to rest his feet on her lap until. Once she nodded that it was fine, he lowered his feet to her legs.

“Have a better idea? I mean aside from eloping so you can say, ‘Surprise father! I found myself a perfectly wonderful lady in a position of power. It didn’t require blood magic at all.’ And ta-da. They would leave you alone. Plus think of the delicious scandal you being wed to a Qunari would cause.” She patted his knee.

“Did you miss the part of the earlier argument where I mentioned preferring the company of men?”

She tossed a throw pillow at him. “I didn’t mean anything of the sort, Dorian. I am well aware you do not find  _this_ ,” she gestured to her body, “form desirable. If it helps I don’t fancy yours either.”

“What? How could you not? Look at me. I’m a marvel of a human specimen.”

“Yeah, a human specimen. I… don’t care for humans. In fact, aside from you, they terrify me. My worst nightmare would be to find myself stuck in a room full of them with no escape in sight.”

“Ah. Prefer men more your own…size for lack of a better word? Can’t say I’d blame you. We humans do look quite fragile compared to Qunari.”

She threw her head back and cackled. “If you were anyone else, I’d ask if you were calling me fat. But yes. That is what I meant.” She rubbed his shin. “I would, you know, if you asked.”

“You needn’t tie yourself down to this mess.” Finally, he seemed to remember the open bottle of liquor in his hand and took a swig, coughing. “What in the name of Andraste is this?” He brushed the dust off the label, reading aloud. “‘Hirol’s Lava Burst.’ And oh look, there’s a description. Well isn’t that thoughtful. ‘Tastes like burning.’ Well at least the name is apt. Would you care to try?”

“Can’t be worse than the Maraas-Lok Bull gave me after we killed that dragon.” Hesitant, she took a sip, and immediately regretted it. “Oh Maker! That is terrible. It’s like swallowing a hot coal. Maybe the second drink is better.” She took another, but the same burn remained. “Nope. Still bad.”

Cackling, Dorian sat up fully and switched his position on the couch so that his head rested on Anaani’s thigh. “Well go on, it’s got to be better by the third drink.”

He was wrong.

It was still terrible by the time they’d finished most of the bottle. However, at least by that point, they were both well on the way to being drunk.

Anaani wriggled out from under his head and swayed as she walked backwards towards her bed. When the back of her knees hit the mattress it threw her off-balance and onto the bed. “Oh you have got to come over here. That couch is abysmally uncomfortable in comparison.”

Dorian flopped down beside her. “Why, Inquisitor, I do believe you’re right. It puts that sad excuse for a mattress in my quarters to absolute shame. In fact, I’m envious.”

She propped herself up with one arm. “Dori, can I play with your hair?”

“What?” he asked, looking over at her, eyes half-lidded.

“It looks so soft. And besides, it’s already messy from where you lay down earlier.”

Dorian looked like an owl as he blinked at her, eyes wide with childlike confusion.

With a yawn, she stretched out her stiff limbs, letting her arms hang over the edge of the bed to mirror her legs on the other side. This bed was clearly not made for a Qunari to lie across it sideways. “If it bothers you, I’ll let you play with mine too.” When he didn’t respond, she rolled over onto her stomach, gathering up the pillow between her arms. “Look, if you don’t want me to, I won’t. It feels nice though. When I was stressed or having a bad day I would have one of my fellow mercs play with my hair. It’s relaxing. I just thought you might like it.”

“Um…fine I suppose.”

Smiling, she sat up and scooted over to where he lay. Then, she began to card her fingers through his hair, making sure to massage his skin in soft, little circles. Every so often she would scratch lightly at his scalp. He leaned into the touch each time. Given time, Anaani thought, he might even start purring. “I’m sorry you have a family who would rather perform blood magic on you than accept you as the man you are.”

Dorian’s eyes had drifted closed under her ministrations. “Well thank you. I really didn’t mean for you to see me like that. It was…undignified.”

She hummed a note of contemplation. “Well, that’s what happens when you’re friends. You catch each other at your worst.”

“Friends. How I do love the sound of that" For several long moments, he was silent. “May I ask you something?”

“About?”

“Well, it’s personal.”

“You did bring me with you to confront your father, I suppose it’s only fair.”

He folded his hands on his chest and leaned into her touch. “Why are you afraid of humans? Present company excepted of course.”

Anaani froze, her hand still in his hair. Through great effort, she was able to control her breathing and get her heart rate back down. However, she had gone quiet for several minutes, perhaps a few too long, and Dorian noticed.

“Ah. The silence usually means it’s something bad,” he said, opening his eyes to look at her.

Looking down at him, she licked her lips and tried to find words that didn’t want to come.

“My my, you do have pretty eyes!  What a lovely shade of blue. That ring of lavender around the outside of your irises is like a jewel. I’m sorry. I’m distracting you. You don’t need to answer the question if it is too much.”

She let herself fall back onto the mattress and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.  _In. Out. In. Out._ She thought, once more attempting to focus on her breath.

The bed shifted beside her. Looking over, she saw Dorian sitting up, staring at her. “Would you like your hair played with too?”

Would she? Yes, of course. She rolled onto her shoulder so she could untie the ribbon holding the bun at the back of her head in place. Once free, she ran her fingers through her platinum blonde hair. Then, she lay back down.

“You know, it really doesn’t look this long or thick when you have it tied up.”

“I know. My mother used to say the same thing to me.” She took a deep breath. “Growing up, the only other people like me were my parents. I’d never seen another Qunari besides them until I was nineteen. I’d left home to find work. Went all the way to Ostwick from Tantervale.”

“That’s where you’re from then, Tantervale? I thought your accent sounded a bit like the Northern Marches.”

“Yes. In Ostwick, no one wanted to hire me.  You ever wonder why all the Tal-Vashoth you meet are mercenaries or bandits? It’s because that’s the only job humans will let us do. But I met a woman, older, grandmotherly. She told me the blacksmith was looking for an apprentice. Well, my father was a farrier. I knew how to make shoes and put them on horses. It was worth a shot. That’s where I met Tamek.”

“Another Tal-Vashoth, I take it?”

“He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.”

She winced as Dorian’s fingers caught a tangle in her hair. “Sorry. Surely he wasn’t more handsome than me.”

“Absolutely. You’re handsome…for a human I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“Like I said. Humans…aren’t really for me. But yes. He took me on, eventually we became partners in the business and in life. Oh I loved him. He was good, honest, hard-working. And then…”

“What happened? Another woman caught his eye?” Judging by his chuckle, she could tell he’d been aiming for a joke. It fell short.

“No. Kirkwall happened, and suddenly the Arishok’s foolhardy decision to invade made every Qunari, every Tal-Vashoth across the Free Marches the enemy. We’re big, but even we can’t hold our own against an angry mob. He died trying to protect me from…from  _a lot_. Fat lot of good it did too. I still got left for dead outside Ostwick. Valo-kas found me. Nursed me back to health. Took me on as their Quartermaster.”

She opened her eyes when she felt him move once more. He’d lain down, also horizontally across her bed and was looking at her. “What?”

“Look at us. A pair of traumatized fools trying to save the world. I knew when we met, I knew you were someone I wanted to and  _should_  get to know. I understand why now. Bloody people who can’t understand and accept those who are different.” He tousled her hair once more then tried to stand. “Oh whoa….the room is spinning.” He leaned against the small table beside the sofa. Well more like half sat upon, but semantics. “I think I will just stay right here a moment. Don’t want to fall to my death down your stairs.”

“The tragedy of the ages.” With a smirk Anaani reached out and tugged him to the bed.

“What are you-”

She tugged him back down to the mattress and folded around him in an embrace. “Shh. Just go to sleep. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Are you…spooning me?”

She moved the bolster under her horns and settled in. “Mmhmm,” she said, already closing her eyes in fatigue. “I’ll have you know, I have been told I am a fantastic snuggler. Consider yourself lucky. Few people get this treatment.”

Dorian wriggled a little, likely to get comfortable. After a minute or two, he spoke, “You know, you’re right. You are sort of the perfect size for a good cuddle.”

“Told you. G’night, Dori.”

“Pleasant dreams, my friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](https://glittering-darmallon.tumblr.com/)


End file.
